


At What Cost?

by psychosomatic86



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Also some sadness I thought of, Fluff? i guess?, I mean just POOR CECIL!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 10:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2306825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychosomatic86/pseuds/psychosomatic86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos returns to Night Vale and Cecile is ecstatic, but... something is wrong...</p>
            </blockquote>





	At What Cost?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [longhairshortfuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairshortfuse/gifts).



“Goodnight, Night Vale, goodnight.”

The outro music played, and Cecil leaned back, taking out his phone.

Still nothing.

He sighed and put it back in his pocket, trying to reassure himself. He wasn’t worried, no of course he wasn’t, there was no need to worry. Carlos was a scientist after all.

“And a scientist is always fine.”

“Hm?” Intern Phyllis poked her head into the booth. “Whaddya say?”

He waved a dismissive hand at her. “Nothing, Phyllis. Hey, has Carlos tried to call the station at all?”

She shook her head, and Cecil’s shoulders slumped a little.

“I wish I could tell you different.” She added. “But I’m sure he’s fine, I mean a lot of things could be holding him up, right?”

“Yeah, I just, you know, I wish he would call or something…” His voice trailed off, and Intern Phyllis walked over, placing her hands on his deflated shoulders.

“He’s fine, Cecil, I know it’s been a long time since he last contacted you, but that doesn’t mean he’s in trouble. He probably just found another scientific anomaly that’s completely distracted him.”

“Hmph.” Cecil huffed like a disappointed child.

“Oh c’mon.” She playfully shook him and he smiled just a little. “I mean, you remember what happened when he found that gecko? He didn’t call you for days!”

“Five and half to be exact,” he replied, smiling at the memory of how he had chastised Carlos ruthlessly before caving into eccentric adoration when he had finally called.

“But this is different.” His voice fell again. “It’s been two weeks. _Two weeks_ , and he’s not so much as reblogged my latest woodcuts of Khoshekh!”

Intern Phyllis had to admit that was a little unnerving, Cecil’s carvings were pretty darn neat, and she sighed, not knowing what else to do that might cheer him up. She ended up just saying a pitying goodnight and left.

Cecil looked at his phone again, a picture of Carlos sneezing as Khoshekh zoomed off screen glowed a blue hue in the otherwise dark studio. A single tear traced down his cheek as his finger brushed the screen, wishing he were touching the real Carlos and not some digital replica.

When he finally left the studio for the night, he was thankful it was dark enough that no one would be able see the post-cry evidence all over his face. How long had he been in there? The digital clock in his car showed the “time” to be past midnight and he rested his head on the steering wheel with the exhaustion that crying always brought. He almost fell asleep right there in the parking lot but managed to rouse himself enough to drive home slowly where collapsed into bed fully clothed. His dreaming and sleep was lucid and he was keenly aware the whole time that Carlos was not there to hold him.

***

Cecil awoke to the sounds of his phone vibrating angrily on the nightstand. He rolled over and stared at it blankly as reality took a second to kick.

_Carlos_

The name jolted his brain awake and he grabbed for the phone. His hand-eye coordination was a little off so he only succeeding in knocking it to the floor where it buzzed even louder on the hardwood.

“Shit…” he mumbled, stretching over the side of the bed to retrieve it.

His heart sank when he saw it was not Carlos but, instead, Intern Phyllis. He was not in the mood to deal with whatever “intern problem” she was having at the moment so he ignored the call, not even noticing there were 9 messages all from her.

He took a quick look at his screen saver before casting the phone aside and sitting up to throw his legs over the side of the bed. He rested his head in his hands for a moment before standing and making his way to the bathroom.

He started the shower, throwing off his wrinkled clothes, and stepped in, barely phased by the scalding water that pummeled his skin. He stood there for a few moments, just thinking. Thinking about how Carlos would sometimes awkwardly surprise him by joining him in the shower. How the love making would be more silly than sexy as Carlos would always slip a little in the suds. How, afterwards, they would curl up together in Cecil’s black snuggie, hair wet, bodies warm, skin touching. How Carlos would murmur in Cecil’s hair how much he loved him, and Cecil would reach back and stroke his perfect jaw as he talked. How he missed everything and anything about his perfectly imperfect Carlos and how he just wanted him back.

Cecil didn’t know he was crying until after he shut the water off and he felt the hot tears running down his face. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel The Faceless Old Woman always left for him on the sink and wrapped it around his waist as the tears continued their silent descent.

They didn’t stop as he dried and dressed or when he started the coffee. They did, however, lessen a bit when he looked at his phone, though it was more out of anger than an actual appeasement to his heart. There were now 13 messages from Intern Phyllis. He was about to tap her contact to tell her to leave him alone for the day when her name suddenly flashed on the screen and phone buzzed violently.

“For, Glow Cloud’s sake!” Cecil sighed with exasperation as he picked up.

“What, Phyllis? What’s so damn important?”

She replied breathy and excited. “Oh my Glow Cloud, thank you thank you! Oh, Cecil, oh my, Cecil he’s back!”

Cecil’s heart skipped a beat and the tears halted immediately. “What did you just say?”

“He’s back! Carlos is back. Steve Carlsberg just phoned the station saying he saw him at Big Rico’s!”

Cecil almost dropped the phone as he felt mirth bubble up inside him. “Oh my Glow Cloud, oh my oh my oh my. Phyllis thank you so so so so much!” Cecil was so ecstatic he could have kissed Steve.

Phyllis laughed on the other end and he laughed too, something he hadn’t done in quite some time.

“I’ve got to, oh my GOD, I’ve got to go now Phyllis, thank you so much!” He hung up before she could reply, grabbed his keys, and dashed for the door.

*

He had barely put the car in park before he was sprinting toward his boyfriend sitting at one of the shaded tables outside of the pizza joint.

“OH CARLOS!!” He cried. The scientist looked up just as Cecil pulled him into a tight embrace, smothering his face in kisses.

“AH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?” Carlos cried, roughly shoving Cecil away to stare at him with an incredulous look. “Can I HELP you?” He asked, his tone holding anything but the sentiment of help.

“Carlos?” Cecil asked, then a grin spread across his face. “Ohhh, I see, haha, you got me.” He made to hug him again, but Carlos stepped back, his face full of genuine confusion and slight fear.

“Sir, I have no _idea_ what you’re talking about.” He held his hands up in a defensive gesture as he spoke. “I don’t know how you know my name, seeing as how I just moved here, but I’m going to put it off as you have me confused with someone else.”

Cecil stood, dumbfounded, as his face furrowed in confusion. “Carlos, that’s… that’s enough, can you please stop now?” He reached his hand out to Carlos’ arm but the scientist yanked it out of reach.

“Sir, please! I really don’t know what you mean, and I need you to leave me alone now.” He grabbed his lab coat from the table and turned to walk away.”

“Carlos! Stop!”

The scientist turned around with a sigh. “I will get the authorities involved if I have to.”

Cecil’s heart shattered. Was Carlos not joking? He fumbled for words as his sweaty hand held tight to his phone in his pocket. _His phone_!

He stumbled forward, holding his phone shakily so the scientist could see the screen. “Carlos, look, look at this, you don’t remember this? You don’t remember Khoshekh?”

Carlos’ face changed from confusion to horror as he looked at the picture, and he began to back away slowly.

“Sir, I don’t know how you have that picture or how you know my name but I will call the police if you don’t leave me alone.”

He held out his own phone and punched in three numbers. He held it up so Cecil could see the 9 and two 1’s, his finger hovered above the send button.

“I’m going to leave now, sir, and if you engage me one more time, I’m going to call the cops.”

“Carlos…” Cecil whimpered meekly, but made no move toward the scientist, and he watched through blurred eyes as his confused boyfriend got into a hybrid coupe that Cecil had never seen before, and sped away. He steadied himself on the table before collapsing in tears in the rusty, wrought iron chair.

***

Intern Phyllis was unbelievably confused when she saw Cecil come in more disheveled than ever. His hair hung limp, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. She hadn’t heard from him all afternoon and assumed it was because he and Carlos were making up for all the time they had been apart, and she didn’t text him out of respect for that. She mentally kicked herself for doing this as she listened to Cecil tell her about the encounter with Carlos.

“I, I just don’t understand!” He hiccuped through broken breaths when he finished.

They were sitting in the breakroom with weak cups of coffee and a box of tissues.

“He acted so confused, he even looked scared of me! It was like he thought I was some sort of stalker!” He buried his face in his hands as Intern Phyllis rubbed gentle circles on his back.

“I mean, does he really not remember me?” He looked pleadingly at Intern Phyllis for an answer but all she could do was look sadly back.

“He-he said he just moved here! That doesn’t make any sense! He lived here for two years before he got stuck in that _fucking_ other desert!” Intern Phyllis flinched, she hated when Cecil cursed, but listened nonetheless.

“None of this makes sense! How can this be happening, how can he not remember me?” A fresh wave of crying started and Intern Phyllis stayed until the tears had resided again to soft sniffles.

“We can cancel the show, Cecil.” She said quietly and he turned to her. “I mean, it isn’t fair for you to have to pretend like everything’s okay for the show when everything’s just gone to, pardon the language, but when everything’s just gone to shit.”

She was very perturbed. Cecil didn’t deserve this. After all he’d done for Night Vale and after all he’d endured with his boyfriend being trapped in that other worldly desert for months, this was just complete bullshit. She wanted to go find Carlos and _beat_ his memories back into place if she had to.

“No, Phyllis.” He raked his fingers through his hair and stood. “Radio comes first, my listeners, they need me.” She looked up at him with a face not of pity, but of admiration. Through all this hell, he always came through for radio.

“Okay.” She took his cup and refilled it with hot coffee before walking with him to the studio. She set the cup down in front of the switchboard and he sat down in his chair, putting on the headphones, and leaning in to the mic.

Intern Phyllis squeezed his hand then turned to walk out, closing the door behind her. Cecil sat there, thoughts swimming and debilitating sorrow clawing at his chest. _Carlos doesn’t remember me_.

The thought almost brought a fresh onslaught of tears but his producer signaled from the booth and the light went on.

He sighed deeply into the microphone.

“Listeners, my wonderful listeners, all of whom I am sure will never forget me as my love has come to. Dearest listeners, my Carlos,” he took in a shaky breath and swallowed hard on the lump forming in his throat, “my perfect, beautiful, darling Carlos has returned to us in Night Vale.”

He paused for a moment, trying to put together a string of words to tell his city of how he had lost his one and only love. He took out his phone and looked at his sneezing Carlos, the Carlos he would never again be with, the Carlos he would never again hold or kiss or make love to, the Carlos he would never get to marry and grow old with.

“He has returned to, Night Vale,” he repeated, “but at what cost, listeners?

“At what cost?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, longhairshortfuse, my turn to break YOUR heart. blehh *sticks tongue out* It may not be as heart crushingly good as yours, but I'll get you back anyway I can!


End file.
